


Tony's Day In

by FigureSgayts



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Crack, M/M, PLEATHE, i only cried three times while writing this, oh my god why the hell, please god above help me jesuss christ, seriously i did not write this seriously pease do not think i did god i did not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-18
Updated: 2016-08-18
Packaged: 2018-08-09 11:57:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7800982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FigureSgayts/pseuds/FigureSgayts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up.”<br/>― Neil Gaiman</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tony's Day In

**Author's Note:**

> M/M SLASH YAOI DON'T LIKE DON'T READ!!
> 
> My older sister found one of my old works that I had hand written while going through some papers. Goes to show I've always been a little shit.
> 
> Disclaimer: Don't shoot me. Please.

Tony is relaxing on his couch, mind wandering everywhere and nowhere as he holds a glass of whiskey in his hand, when the electronic voice of his trusted AI breaks through the dead silence of the unnaturally organized room. “Sir,” the voice, J.A.R.V.I.S., starts, grabbing Tony’s attention. “There is a man looking for you. He says that you are expecting him.”

Tony sits up a little, attempting to remember just who he is supposed to be expecting today. And at this time, not that he knows exactly when it is right now. Then he remembers. _Him._. “What does he look like?” Tony asks quickly, fully sitting up now, back straight. “He uh… older? Long beard?”

“Affirmative, sir.”

Tony downs the rest of what’s in his glass in one shot, and slides the cup across the floor, successfully landing it under an end table. It’ll have to do for now. Hopefully it won’t be noticed. Dumbledore has arrived. “Let the man in, J.A.R.V.I.S.,” Tony orders.

With the sight nervousness of anticipation, Tony looks down at what he is wearing while waiting - what a dreadful thing waiting it - for Dumbledore to arrive up to the penthouse, and into this room. He’s wearing a dirty, oil stained tank top, matching the equally stained, torn up jean shorts. But he ignores his dirty clothing, wanting to please the headmaster of the British wizarding school. Dumbledore always talks about how much he likes dirty boys.

The sound of sliding doors alerts Tony to the arrival of said man in question, and the genius (billionaire playboy philanthropist) quickly lifts his head so that his brown eyes can meet with the twinkling blue of his elder. 

 

“Hello Tony.” While the greeting is in a soft voice, Tony knows that there is no way that analyzing his tone will give off any hint to what sort of mood Dumbledore is in. No way to tell if he is ready to be gentle, or rough. It’s exciting, and sends a small ripple of thrill and, already, pleasure, running down Tony’s spine.

“Headmaster,” Tony answers quickly, tone just as masked as Dumbledore’s is. “You know, I am feeling rather thirsty right now. Would you by any chance want something to drink as well?” It’s a diversion, a way of stalling, and Dumbledore knows it. He knows Tony too well.

In a second, those twinkling eyes change, turning harder. Darker. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, boy!” Dumbledore snaps, every trace of that kind old man from before gone. “Ten points from Ravenclaw!”

With the snap of his fingers, Dumbledore is standing in front of Tony. Tony begins to feel that pleasure starting to grow at the proximity. God, that man knew what magic does to him. Knows how much the power turns him on.

Dumbledore starts with a rough kiss that goes on for just too long, leaving Tony gasping for breath far too early in this game of theirs. Those thin hands take hold of the Tony’s short, Raven hair, tilting his head to the side as Dumbledore shoves him back onto the couch. The action causes a groan to escape the younger man’s lips. “Merlin, look at you,” Dumbledore whispers, drawing away to look down at Tony. “Bloody filthy! Can only imagine what has you looking like this. So goddamn dirty.”

“I’m sorry, Dumbledore,” Tony gasps, licking his lips instinctively. “Sorry. Professor. Filthy. I’m so filthy.”

Dumbledore bites at Tony’s neck possessively. “My filthy, filthy boy,” he says, _growls_. “Mine.” The old wizard rises off of Tony, letting a small smile stretch across his face. He uses his magic to slowly draw Tony’s stained shirt over his head, needing only a flick of the wrist to perform the task. It makes Tony squirm.

When he comes back down, Tony feels a hardness poking at him. He tries to lift his hips into it, to show Dumbledore just how aroused the wizard is making, but he is stopped by a surprisingly strong grip onto them, shoving him down back onto the couch. “Not yet, Stark,” Dumbledore says coldly. Tony doesn’t answer, just lets his eyes slip shut as his body goes lax. 

But everything stops, the mood is cut short, as a sharp scream cuts through the room. It’s terrified, confused, and familiar. Too familiar.

“What the hell is happening?” The voice matches the scream, and Tony’s face pales as he tries to sink as far into his couch as possible, to just escape. Steve Rodgers. Or Captain America. Tony Stark’s childhood idol, and still his idol today, despite how he is a bit of an old geezer himself - there is a bit of pattern Tony is starting to detect here, he thinks, looking up at Dumbledore, who is, in all technicality, likely not too much older than Steve himself is. But here is Steve Rodgers, walking in on Tony, Dumbledore on top of him.

“What the- why is there an old ma- what?” It isn’t the most polite thing to be saying.

Dumbledore scrambles off of Tony, his own eyes wide, long grey robes whipping about him. Those damn blue eyes look to Steve’s own blue eyes - what next, Dumbledore was a blond before he turned all white and grey? There’s a slight moment of hesitation where the wrinkled lips of the wizard open, but then Dumbledore disappears into thin air with a small crack, leaving Tony alone and shirtless with Steve. Jesus Christ.

“Uh… I can totally explain that,” Tony says awkwardly, trying to correct his position to be more… comfortable and less awkward, really. His voice is filled with the absolute horror that he feels. Captain fucking America just saw him and Dumbledore. How much more fucked up can this get?

“Just don’t,” Steve whispers, shaking his head. “I don’t think I really want to know.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you are looking for similar, fucked up stories, I suggest you go check out my one fic called [Rak](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6741571) (just click the little link right there).
> 
> You can also find me at my Tumblr, under the url chckov.tumblr.com where you should check me out and support your local memer.


End file.
